Page 74 of Settle Down, Princess

My stomach rumbled, making my decision for me. We walked through the gate arm in arm, and I enjoyed just listening to her chatter as we made our way down the lane and towards the dining hall.

It was a large building, with a broad roof that formed a wide veranda over the eating area. Tables and chairs were set up across the whole massive floor, a great fire pit at one end. Comforting waves of heat hit me as we walked in, carrying the savoury aroma of good food being produced.

“Evening, Fern—”

A good-looking male wolf shifter got to his feet, shouldering his way forward with an easy smile.

“Nope.” I watched with fascination as she lifted her hand then made a decisive motion in front of her because it stopped the male from speaking or getting any closer. “Jessalyn and I are going over there to have something to eat and you’re going to toddle back to your table and sit down with those boys you call your pack.”

This was the moment when he’d grab her wrist, haul her closer and make clear the error of her ways. He had to, didn’t he? It seemed not, because instead his jaw clicked shut, the muscle flexing for a second. What he did next was the most surprising thing of all. He backed away with a nod before doing exactly what she’d told him to.

“How…?” My head whipped from her to him and back again, taking in what had just happened but unable to understand it. “What…?”

“Mum tells me that human women aren’t taught to be frank with men. Is that right?” Fern asked.

“If I had tried to behave in a such a manner, I’d have had my skirts lifted before the entire court and had my arse spanked raw.”

My words came out in a great rush.

“Spanked…?” Her eyes narrowed. “You might be tiny, but you’re no child.”

“Tell that to your brother and his pack,” I muttered.

“What?” Her arm went around my shoulders and she steered me towards a long table filled with other young women. “Jessalyn, these are the other single women of the pack. Now, back to what you were saying! Did you say Creed… spanked you?”

Every eye swivelled around to focus on me, looks of concern and shock on each face.

“While I was trussed up like a side of beef,” I said, sensing I had a receptive audience. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of your mother—”

“Good thing too. She’d have had his guts for garters if she found out. So what else has that idiot been up to?”

Chapter 42

Silas

Changes in crowd energy, that’s what my father had taught me to read. All the training in poisons and knife work meant nothing if the crowd was aware of what you were up to.

Or worse, against you.

Which is what I felt right now. We’d beaten a hasty retreat from Jessalyn’s cottage. It required some physical intervention from us to get Creed moving, but we’d retired back to the cottage that had been gifted to us for the time being. It’d taken real effort not to get caught up in the emptiness of the place, the spaces between us forming a hollow that only a diminutive princess could fill. But at some point, the sour feeling in my stomach turned into actual hunger that wouldn’t be denied, so we’d ambled down the lane to the dining hall.

Only to find everyone watching us as we passed.

It wasn’t the same regard we got when walking through the stews of the Kheanian capital. People knew about the Bastard Prince and his band, by reputation if not by the sight of us, even though no one would ever assume Arik was something other than a prince. He didn’t realise it, but there was a particular kind of bearing that only those born to rule could affect convincingly. I knew this because many of us at The Guild had attempted to mimic it. But whatever his bloodline was, or mine, it didn’t mean much right now. People watched us pass with hard, searching stares, and the reason why became apparent when we went to get food.

“Meals for my pack, if you please, Master…”

Creed’s voice was corded with pain, but that changed abruptly as the server grabbed several plates and slopped food on them without any care. Mashed potatoes splattered each plate, along with a tumble of boiled vegetables, but it was the meat that made clear his feeling about us. The server sorted through the already sliced lamb, plopping the fattiest, more gristly meat he could find on our plates, before shoving them towards us.

“You have my thanks,” Creed said, the rest of us muttering something along the same lines as we took our food and cutlery.

“Is it just my overactive imagination, or are we getting the stink eye from everyone here?” Roan asked as we found an empty table. Those sitting at the one next to us gathered up their plates and moved away, giving us a sidelong look just to emphasise their point.

“Nope, not imaging it,” I said, poking the meat with my belt knife, then fastidiously cutting away the gristle.

“Did something go wrong? People usually love us when we visit,” Roan said before tucking into his food, the animal. As long as it filled his belly, he didn’t care about the quality.

Arik inhaled, ready to answer, when a peal of the most perfect feminine laughter echoed across the hall.

---